Whose Ride is it Anyway Or: Quantum Microleap
by AnotherJounin
Summary: Glorfindel, Arwen, Elrond, a disputed ride, a slightly irritated horse and the fairy godmother of all elves: Anny. I think this is funny. If you love the movieverse Arwen, don’t bother. If you hatedislike her, read on! R&R as always.


Evil!Glorfindel_Muse: Listen well, I do not repeat myself. The Lady Stepka has no claim upon JRR Tolkien (aka The Author), his estates, his creations, and all therein. She does claim to be borrowing the locations and characters contained herein and promises to surrender them to the appropriate authorities at the conclusion of this work of fiction. I, Evil!Glorfindel_Muse and Finrod_Muse are exempt from this. Will all lawyers who disagree with the validity of these statements, movie-verse Arwen fans, authors of Mary Sues who have had to be reprimanded by the PPC, and flamers who can neither spell nor critique kindly step to my left and take the path marked 'See Scenic Angband'. Thank you.

Whose Ride is it Anyway? 

Or: 

Quantum Micro-leap

Or:

Back to the Past! (Repeatedly)

PG-Humor Glorfindel, Arwen, Elrond, a disputed ride, a slightly irritated horse and the fairy godmother of all elves: Anny. I think this is funny. If you love the movieverse Arwen, don't bother. If you hate/dislike her, read on! R&R as always.

Soft footsteps fell on the straw of the stable, so soft as to almost be unnoticed. But any elf worth his lembas who had lived in the first age could hear an ant sneeze, so this was loud. Glorfindel did not look up from tacking Asfaloth, though he could sense that his horse wondered why and had recognized the newcomer. 

"Aiiie!" someone shouted, and Glorfindel caught his attacker's slim hand with ease. She swung the other one of course, which he caught as well without even turning to face her. 

"Lady Arwen," he sighed. "Kindly come to terms with the fact that you have not been asked to ride. Your father is renown for his wisdom, doubtless he sees what you cannot."

"Let me go!" Arwen said, pulling away. Glorfindel let her go. "He's just being unfair!"

"Can you ride?" he asked.

"Of course!"

"Can you fight?"

"Umm…sort of."

"Do you want to fight the Nazgul? Honestly, it isn't as if this is a picnic or Aragorn-" instantly he knew he'd made a mistake to mention her beloved.

__

Thwack! Went the pommel of his own sword against the back of his head. He turned and grabbed the sword from the surprised maiden. "That is enough."

"Lord Elrond?"

"Let go of me!"

The lord of Rivendell looked up from his reading and frowned. Glorfindel had Arwen practically under one arm and said elf maiden looked very disheveled. "Yes?"

"Buy her a new doll, or have someone teach her how to knit, I'm tired of her tantrums," Glorfindel said and left.

"A doll! Knitting! Oh just you wait, Glorfindel, just you wait!" Arwen shouted, but by then, he was gone. 

Elrond shook his head. "Arwen, you are on restriction. Again. Stop attacking my warriors. It is not becoming of a young lady."

"Director? Sir? Eru? Author? Someone, anyone?" Arwen called, frustrated. The handle of the door of her room twisted slightly. She stood up quickly and composed herself. 

"Ahem. You called?" a young, plain looking woman, seemingly of Edain extraction stuck her head around the door.

"Who are you?" Arwen asked.

"Summon Anny On. You seem to be frustrated."

"Err…" _What an odd name!_ Arwen thought. "Yes, do come in, Summon."

"Call me Anny," the woman said and stepped in. "So you want to ride off and rescue your beloved but your father won't let you and insists for some strange reason that your house's warriors go off to do that?"

"How did you know?" Arwen asked, surprised.

"I'm very well informed," Anny said, taking a seat. "I'll give you three chances to go back in time to take Glorfindel's place."

"Oh thank you, Anny! Thank you!" Arwen gushed.

"Of course certain conditions do apply, and there will be a cost," Anny rattled off under her breath. "You're welcome!" she said aloud. "Starting now! Good luck deary!

There was a violent _whoosh_ noise, and Arwen was back outside the stable. _Now I have a better plan!_ she thought and crept off to her room, looking very suspicious. From the bottom drawer of her dresser she took a dark cloak and crept off back to the stables.

There was her unsuspecting prey! Dolls indeed! She swung the cloak. "Sleep!" she commanded. In an alternate reality, Glorfindel did indeed fall asleep under the spell on her cloak. In another alternate reality, both of them suddenly ceased to exist for no apparent reason. However, in the reality we are currently following, Glorfindel did not fall asleep. He turned around, tugged the cloak out of Arwen's hands, neatly folded it and handed it to her. Then he frog-marched her off to her father.

"Lord Elrond?"

"Let go of me!"

The lord of Rivendell looked up from his reading and frowned. Glorfindel had Arwen practically under one arm and said elf maiden looked very disheveled. He had a sudden strange and inexplicable feeling of dejavu "Yes?"

"Buy her a new doll, or have someone teach her how to knit, I'm tired of her tantrums," Glorfindel said and left.

"A doll! Knitting! Oh just you wait, Glorfindel, just you wait!" Arwen shouted, but by then, he was gone. 

Elrond shook his head. "Arwen, you are on restriction. Again. Stop attacking my warriors. It is not becoming of a young lady."

There was a _whoosh_ and Arwen was again back at the stables. She shook her head, feeling slightly dizzy. _Maybe I just didn't hit him hard enough last time._

Again she picked up his sword as he had his back turned, overconfident fool! _Maybe I should stab- no, that's a bad idea._ She pushed away the terribly attractive thought of Glorfindel, hero of Gondolin, dying in a stable, at her hands. No, he'd only live to tell father and then she'd be restricted for years! She swung the pommel again. He crumpled like a wilted malorn leaf.

"Knitting!" she snorted, then tried to take Asfaloth's reins. However, Asfaloth was surprised and not a little disturbed by the fact that his favorite rider (yes, horses do have favorite riders) was currently lying on the stable floor, unconscious. "Asfaloth, be fair!" Arwen shouted, frustrated as the horse reared up and seemed to be trying to step on her feet, carefully avoiding the prone Glorfindel, although Arwen did not notice. Asfaloth had made up his mind to not like Arwen and when Asfaloth made up his mind in that manner, no one (with the possible exception of Glorfindel) could persuade him unmake it. He then continued in the aforesaid manner for about ten minutes until Glorfindel began to stir. And then the game was over for Arwen.

"…It is not becoming of a young lady."

__

Whoosh! Arwen was becoming desperate. This was her last chance. 

Suddenly Summon Anny On appeared next to her. "I have a plan that cannot fail," Anny declared.

"Tell me!"

There was another sudden _whoosh_ and Arwen gasped in shock. She was _changed!_ There was no other word for it! Her soul-light had changed! She felt different, uncomfortably aggressive and domineering. "No stupid horse and no stupid hero of Gondolin is going to stop me!" she muttered and stomped off into the stable.

Two minutes later, she emerged from the stable, leading a cowed looking Asfaloth.

"Well?" Anny asked.

"Success," Arwen said, a malevolent grin spreading across her no longer flawless features. "Now, how can I repay you, Anny? I assume this change is only temporary?" 

Anny shook her head. "Tough luck deary. You're stuck as you are. Forever. And now there will be a group of people who hate your guts, Purists. The 'you' in this reality of course. Some of your alternate selves aren't too bad. But 'you' you had it coming."

Arwen looked appropriately shocked.

"Go on; enjoy your little ride," Anny continued. "You get some cheesy lines too, that that adorable guy you knocked out would never dream of lowering himself to say! Pardon me whilst I go off to bring him back to life, you didn't have to hit him so hard. Don't worry, he'll pay a price for that too. People will be forever confused wondering if he was or was not at Gondolin."

"B-but that's not fair!" Arwen blurted.

"Save it. All's fair in love, war and fairy godmothers. Yeah, I'm your fairy godmother. The fairy godmother of all elves. Don't I look it?" Anny said. "Go save Aragorn and the stupid hobbits already, you busybody!"

THE END

The moral of the story is…well, I've forgotten. But don't make deals with Summon Anny On, or you may be permanently changed for the worse. For those of you who wanted Arwen dead or incapacitated by the end of the fic, I apologize for not doing either of the two to her, but my muse(s) is (are) feeling strangely lenient.

Evil!Glorfindel_Muse: You would listen to Finrod! Still, it's a fairly decent story. Not quite Hall of Fire material though. READERS! Review this work or face my wrath! evil grin

Finrod_Muse: Our author really likes reviews, it would make her day! smiles


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